(Archive) Welcome to Fiend's Reach
It was about 20 years ago that the first ones arrived. Driftwood, lost souls, washashores, saltborn we called 'em. Didn't have much a mind about 'em. Came from places none of us never heerd from be'fer. Think one of 'm said they was from some place called "Gally-run". Makes no difference now though I s'pose. What matters was that they washed up one day, not known how they got there. Oh fer some makes a bit of sense; gettin' loss at sea, bad storm blowin' o'er there ship and the like. Spookiest one gotta be o' the fellar what said he was on his boat and had a terrible dream 'bout some sorta human-not-so-human thing 'at reminded him of fish came aboard. But then some of them didn't make so much sense; gettin' loss in the woods, hidin' in a graveyard while their city burned, or that on gal said she saw 'erself a baleful green light comin' through 'er winder. Either way though, ain't none of them knew how't get back. Well I imagine it's the same fer you. Don't know why you ended up here in Fiend's Reach; don't know how you'll get home. And I imagine you'll be just like the rest of 'em too. Sittin' here in ole Douglas's bar, or findin' yerself some simple work ain't gon' be enough fer ye's. Well since I ain't been able to talk not a lick o' sense inta th'others I won't be botherin' to dissuade ye either. Instead I'll offer ye this: when ye go out lookin' fer answers, or lookin' fer adventure, keep yer wits aboucha. Ain't none of that first lot 20 years ago made it back. And ain't none of the rest'ave ventured too far either. Maybe there's a reason ye washed ashore insteada stumblin' out them woods. Why are you here? So, you’ve washed ashore without quite an idea of how you got here. You’ve got some guesses, but those guesses don’t really matter anymore. Some kind folks drug your limp, sogging body to the nearest tavern; set you up with a blanket and a drink in front of the fire; and they’ll leave you to figure it out on your own. Welcome to Fiend’s Reach, saltborn. Only town in the whole world; ‘least that’s what the locals like to think. Or you’ve finally come of age. You’ve been living in this dreary city your whole life. Parents, teachers, or any other person with a modicum of authority has told you not to venture far past the walls, and not to sail outta sight. But you’ve been doing your research, training your sword hand, or doing whatever it is you gotta do to get so strong that a house cat won’t kill ya with a lucky swipe. You aim to find out what’s out there in the mists saltborn. In either case, you’re a capable fellow that’s been bitten by that dangerous bug called adventure. What do you do now? No one’s explored the surrounding world much from Fiend’s Reach. You’ve got everything most will need in Fiend’s Reach; plenty of fish to catch, a nice bit of farmland to bring in the crops, hell there’s even a mine that gets the town the ores it needs. But you need more. You need to know what’s out there, or at the very least, you need to hear the sweet sound of gold pieces jingling in your purse. The best way to get that is to go out and find out what’s there. What to expect? This living campaign centers around the city of Fiend’s Reach; a place where adventurers wash up from time to time and no one knows why. The residents of Fiend’s Reach are fairly superstitious, and have for a long time have never strayed farther than the sight of their fair city. Horror of the unknown is par for the course here. No one knows how they got here, and most don’t care to inquire. The vast ocean that Fiend’s Reach sits upon has things lurking below the deep. The dark forests that surround it are full of red glowing eyes that remind a traveler how nice the city walls are. The caverns below echo with haunting cries of things that justify the sturdy adamantine gates that the city spent so much gold on. No one ever talks about that manor on the hill, but everyone seems to know that it’s a place best left be. Wizards and arcanists that have studied these things exhibit the strangest idiosyncrasies in their cloistered towers and libraries. Old sailors with salt crusted beards sit in their booths in the taverns muttering to themselves. When they burst into tears of rage or despair it makes one think that their drunken stupor is probably the for the best. Children get a scolding from their parents when they play just a little bit too close to that old manor on the hill that no one’s willing to talk about. Occasionally there’s a brave cleric that whispers prayers to some forgotten god; asking for answers about the things below the streets. Rarely do they keep their faith when those gods answer. Of particular curiosity is the likelihood of running into old friends and enemies. A significant number of saltborn that have washed up eventually seem to encounter a long time enemy from their previous world. How these enemies seem to make it here is anyone's guess, since they rarely wash up on the shore. It is no matter though, just watch out there saltborn, as it's more than likely someone out there knows your past, and is out to settle a score. What's out there? As stated before, Fiend’s Reach was pretty much the only place in the known world. That isn’t to say that no one has ever ventured beyond the city to find out what’s out there. It’s just that none so far have returned. At least not until these damned saltborn started washing up. Many have wondered if this is some sort of afterlife; some sort of hell. That’s one of the few things that have been answered by the saltborn of the past. Access to other planes works just fine. The tuning forks used to get to Fiend’s Reach are all attuned to the material plane. No, if this is some sort of hell, it is merely hell on earth. Thank the gods, though, that they still listen. A good many saltborn that washed up were surprised that this strange world worshipped the gods they remember. The locals got pretty used to it after the first few parties were dragged out of the bay. The wizards that were here before met with the wizards that are here now and have noticed striking similarities with certain parts of the night sky. Even some of spirit possessed psychics make a startling note how some of the ephemera local to Fiend's Reach know about a world called Golarian. With all this talk of the untamed wilderness and unknown world out there, you might think that there isn't any civilizations beyond the walls. After the satlborn of this generation showed up, they made quick work to go out there and find out. Some settlements were made by the daring heroes among the wash-a-shores. Others made contact after learning that the Reach had opened its walls. Don't let this ease your mind too much though. The wilderness is extremely dangerous still, and many of those that bury themselves in the mundane life within the walls have good reason to do so. Category:Archives